Happy Enough
by Alchemine
Summary: Miss Hardbroom and Miss Cackle take a moment to regroup. A tiny bit of 2017 Worst Witch reboot fic, set immediately after the end of the finale.


"I passed! I can stay!"

Miss Cackle stood at a prudent distance and watched Mildred Hubble bounce up and down, arms looped round her friends' necks as they celebrated her reprieve. It was a wonder the child didn't have concussion after flying full-tilt into a tree, but she'd found that twelve-year-olds were generally much sturdier and more resilient than they looked. It came in handy when teaching them to blow things up with magic.

"That was nice of you, Hecate," she said to Miss Hardbroom, who had just arrived at her side, clipboard in hand, looking cool and unruffled despite her tight dress and the warm July day.

Miss Hardbroom arched an eyebrow at the Headmistress. "It was not _nice_ , Ada. It was fair. A proper repayment for services rendered to the school."

"Yes, of course."

"And the girl's still here on a probationary basis as far as I'm concerned."

"So you've said." Miss Cackle reached over to pat Miss Hardbroom's arm and tutted to herself at its birdlike feel. For years she'd been on a secret campaign to fatten her deputy up, but no matter how many custard creams she was plied with, Hecate remained stubbornly whip-thin, burning off every spare unit of energy in the crucible of her own intensity. Miss Cackle often wondered what it must be like to live that way, but on balance she thought she preferred a calm, measured style, even if it was a bit boring at times.

"They do look happy together, don't they?" she observed, following Miss Hardbroom's gaze back to Mildred and her friends. Maud had collected the splintered remains of Mildred's new broomstick from the ground, and all three girls were taking turns at trying to repair it, groaning and laughing at the different ways the bits came together with each new spell. Currently the bristles were sticking out along the length of the handle, as if the broom had mated with an angry porcupine and this was the result.

"Very happy indeed," Miss Hardbroom said, and there was an odd, wistful note in her voice that made Miss Cackle glance sharply back at her. Hecate was not much given to open displays of sentiment, but after two decades of friendship, she knew there was a lot going on under that prickly façade. She assessed the tautly drawn profile of Hecate's face, wondering whether the other woman needed soothing or distracting, and decided on the latter.

Deliberately, she let herself sway a little, eyes half closed, and at once Hecate was supporting her with a hand under one elbow, all solicitousness and worry.

"Ada? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Just a bit tired."

"Are you sure? You were trapped in the painting for so much longer than I was. It could have had some sort of effect-"

"It didn't," Miss Cackle assured her. "But it has been a very trying few days. Let's go back inside and leave the girls to their efforts."

"They'll never mend that broomstick at the rate they're going," Miss Hardbroom said. "Do you suppose we ought to..."

"Not just yet," Miss Cackle said. "They'll learn more if they try to do it themselves first."

"You're right," said Miss Hardbroom with a sigh. She still had hold of Miss Cackle's elbow, and now she gave her the small, affectionate squeeze that was as close to a hug as she usually came. "It's so good to have you back, Ada. I was afraid-"

"So was I," Miss Cackle said, remembering with a shudder what it had been like to watch helplessly, crushed flat and powerless in the two-dimensional world of the painting, as her sister wrecked everything either of them had ever cared for. Well, now it would be Agatha's turn to watch events unfold without her. It might even do her some good, though if it did, it would be the first time in their lives that any punishment or reward had made an impact on Agatha's behaviour.

"Come along, Hecate," she said to Miss Hardbroom. "We may as well finish off the last of Agatha's biscuits before they go stale, don't you think?"

"They're Miss Gullet's biscuits actually," Miss Hardbroom said. "I expect she had them left over."

"Left over from what?"

"From building her house of sweets to lure little children in the wood," Miss Hardbroom said dryly.

Caught off guard, Ada laughed out loud, and looking up, she saw a quirk of humour playing around Hecate's mouth as well. They were both still giggling quietly to themselves as they passed under the raised portcullis and through the castle gate, and that was how they completely missed the triumphant moment when Maud finally managed to restore Mildred's broom.


End file.
